Once upon a time, I was married.
And then, I had to date as a single mom. It is the worst. I tried to avoid it. Tried to sweep it under the rug. Then I rebounded. Then I dabbled in online dating (for 48 hours) and then I met Jason.
From the moment we started talking, I knew it was different. There was no drama. No game playing. No bullshit.
But every time I said something off-the-wall (and that happens a lot), I fully expected him to start shouting expletives, freak out and bail. Literally, in my head I would say…wait for it…wait for it…wait for it. But it NEVER happened.
What the eff is wrong with this guy? Seriously is he for real? How is he not arguing this? Or shoving his point of view in my face. Or telling me how I’m wrong and am the biggest moron on the planet? WHAT GIVES?????
And then, after much introspection (and shared screenshots of text convos with my girlfriends to analyze stuff like it’s our job), I figured it out. Get ready for it. Because it’s huge. And life changing.
He’s a grown man and I’m a grown woman and we behave like grown ups together (most of the time).
Yep! That’s it. It may sound contrite but it’s totally true. We are not perfect as individuals, nor are we perfect as a couple. But we are very much perfect for each other. He gets me, my neuroses, my family dynamic. All of it. Never flinches. It’s like he was born for it. He’s been exposed to my entire family (trust me, it’s ridiculous), and doesn’t break a sweat.
You know when you are gabbing with girlfriends and someone in the group is dating someone and you feel like he’s too good to be true. So you start to hypothesize on all of the potential deal breakers that have not yet revealed themselves?
He lives with his parents
He has a small penis
He doesn’t know how to use his penis properly
He is unemployed
He has a weird attachment to his mother
He sucks his thumb and sleeps spooning a teddy bear
He’s hiding bodies in his basement
Well, after months and months of analysis, I have discovered Jason’s flaw (if you can even call it that). He’s the silver lining guy.
If ever you present a situation that is negative in any way, small or serious in nature, he’s got your silver lining. Every effing time. “But babe, at least xx!” and “Babe, it could have been worse..xx could have happened.” And it makes me nuts sometimes. Like a squirrel goes nuts over nuts, nuts. I have legitimately lost my cookies over some of the silver linings and acted like a crazy person, hearing the words come out of my mouth faster than I can collect my thoughts and stop them. He could easily tell me to eff off. He could easily tell me I’m insane. But instead, he looks me in the eye, grabs me by my shoulders and says, “You can shit all over every thing I say but I am NEVER going to stop showing you that there is a positive.”
And he’s right. God dammit he’s right. The problem is, I am not a negative nancy, but I am very much a realist. I don’t believe in painting grand pictures of an alternate universe that would likely come out of a sweaty yoga retreat where you live on green juice and fart up a storm in a tiny hut somewhere in the middle of nowhere. I believe in the facts, the reality of the situation, not the what ifs. Maybe it’s a defense mechanism. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism, Who knows. In all the times I have been to therapy in my life, I had bigger fish to fry so it was never analyzed.
Another super grown up and redeeming quality of our relationship is the honesty. It’s there and it’s unfiltered. Sometimes it’s awesome and sometimes it stings, but it’s always there.
There is no shortage of affection. He wants to make me happy all the time. And he has my back 100%. And he still loves me even when:
I wake up in the morning and my hair is reminiscent of the bus driver from South Park (his analogy)
He once had to pull an unexpected lone hair out of my face (I blame having a child. All the effed up things that happen to your body are absolutely correlated to housing a child in your womb). Didn’t even phase him.
All my crazy never curbs his desire to make out with me.
I have said before that I don’t think love is enough for any relationship to be sustained. Love is the easy part. It’s an all-encompassing emotion that is easy to get swept up in. The trick is liking the person. And liking them enough to deal with their shit. Because everyone has shit. Once kids are grown, and there’s no more carpool, and school shows and pediatrician appts to get a flu mist where you have to hold your child down WWF style, and every other life distraction…do you LIKE the person enough to just hang out? If the answer is no, then run.
When we first started dating, amidst all of the obligatory questions you ask each other, we talked about the most important thing the other wanted in a partner. And we had the same answer. To be able to be 100% ourselves. No filter (god knows I do not come equipped with one), no censorship, no holding back. And I can literally say ANYTHING in front of this man. He never gets squeamish. As a matter of fact he usually laughs.
And there are tons of other reasons I know he is meant for me:
We love to eat and order ridiculous amounts of food. All the time.
Very early (like practically 5 mins) into our relationship he went out on a limb and bought concert tix for us as a surprise for a show that was quite a ways away. And not just any show. Journey. Even with the new Filipino version of Steve Perry, it’s Journey, people. And he bought us shirts there. And we wore them. We were the people who wore the band’s t-shirt to the concert. And it was awesome.
He encourages my moments of insanity like when I think I need to have a shirt that says, Money, Cash, Hoes and/or Gangsta Rap Made Me Do It.
Not only did we embark on a food tour (or two) in NYC. But he made a Google Map. An effing Google Map plotting our gluttony in the most logical way possible.
He’s good at math (I had to study for insane periods of time to get an A in Fundamentals of Math in college. Also known as Fun for Mentals).
His sense of direction is impeccable (I would follow my GPS to the Gaza Strip if it told me to).
He ALWAYS gets me a Starbucks iced coffee in the morning.
He still opens my car door, or any door.
He’s a Gator.
He cooks, is happy to do it, and even though I always promise to pony up and get back into Betty Crocker mode, he doesn’t make me.
He is always up for a rap duet – from Marky Mark to Biggie, it’s all fair game.
He doesn’t ever wake me up (in the interest of full disclosure this might have to do with the fact that I have scared the shit out of him, even threatening bodily harm if I am ever awoken against my will. It’s one of my top 3 pet peeves and a huge trigger probably related to the fact that my daughter on more than one occasion has actually manually opened my eyelids.)
And today just happens to be his birthday.
So I want to wish my Silver Lining Sobel the happiest of birthdays and tell him that not only do I love him. But I like him, a lot a lot.